


One Hundred Words

by QuinTalon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Some angst, Wordcount: 100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-07 09:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17957810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinTalon/pseuds/QuinTalon
Summary: DFW challenges for 100 word drabbles. These will be Dramione for the most part. Some romance, some fluff, some angst, some humor. Enjoy!





	1. Don't bleed on my floor

“Don’t bleed on my floor, Ron.” Hermione stood in front of him, hands on her hips.

“But, Hermione…” he began, as blood dripped down his chin, though it sounded more like ‘bud, Hermidee’ due to his broken nose.

“Serves you right, barging in uninvited without knocking.”

“But I heard...I thought you were hurt.” Ron felt his face turning red at the memory.

“She was far from hurt, Weasley. Quite the opposite, actually.” 

Ron narrowed his eyes at the stupid ferrett. “Yes, thanks. I gathered that after I almost died tripping over the landmine of clothes strewn across the room!”


	2. So, there's this boy...

Ginny watched as her friend shot furtive glances across the Great Hall. What is she looking at? No longer able to hold in her curiosity, she whispered into Hermione’s ear, “What’s got you so distracted today?”

Hermione startled and turned to her with wide eyes and reddening face. “N-nothing.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes. “Nope, try again.”

Sighing, Hermione looked around before speaking. “So, there’s this boy...And, I really like him but...”

“But?” 

“Um…” Distracted once more, Ginny saw Hermione staring at the tall, blonde boy walking to the door. Hermione’s cheeks flamed red. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy?

“No. Freaking. Way….”


	3. Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture

Screams. Flashes of green. Pain. Blood, so much blood. Sweat. Running. Out of breath. No. No. NO!

Draco woke with a shout, panting and drenched in sweat. He could feel tears running down his face onto the pillow he was laying on. 

A hand appeared in his line of sight, gently wiping the tears away. 

“Shh. You’re okay, Draco. You’re safe. I’m here.”

He clutched Hermione’s hand and yanked her onto him, holding her tightly.

Reliving his memories from the war each night was torture. But this, holding his love in his arms. This was the balm to his soul.


End file.
